In my estimation, fear seems a normal reaction, after all, imagination begs us consider the realm of influence to which we would ascribe the title, Master of Darkness. What form of Ogre, or Devil incarnate, must be powerful enough to successfully derail, what one would expect should be, the GodSelf ability to express a life of Eden?
Time and again, Antonio's revelations had unequivocally proved my true identity to be the totality of all manifest reality. I don't mean to appear ungrateful, however, the bla bla bla how big "I AM" can get long in the tooth when circumstance bears such a striking physical contrast to the obvious truth. Knowing myself to be eternal LOVE, GOD, or LIGHT if a less theatrical title were selected, is truly a wonderful realisation. However warm and fuzzy this observation makes me feel, I would be remiss if I failed to redress the most oft refrain I hear.
Why am I, or any of us for that matter, living in this stinking mess?
You don't have to be a deep thinker to trespass upon the obvious disconnect between the vision of love, juxtaposed, to the fear primed reality we experience daily. We suggest our true identity is love; is it not then reasonable to inquire, how in the hell did we end up here in this continual state of fear?
Given the choice between bliss and suffering; is it not fair to assume the vast majority would choose bliss?
How then do we explain this catastrophe?
Hey, it's not like we got things a little bit wrong!
We can't say we nearly hit the mark!
Similar lines of thought, only serve to enforce my belief that any evil manifestation powerful enough to circumvent my desires as a magnificent GodSelf being must be something to behold. To this end; I expected my final journey with Antonio to embody darkness, snakes, slitherings of all sorts, pain and tragedy. I assumed a unique flavour of horridness awaited, something grotesquely feeding in the darkest recesses of my psyche. Maybe everything in our reality is love and we "consciousness" represent the evil villain? I jest of course; but only because I have experienced my true identity.
Thanks to Antonio, I knew whatever would approach in the moments ahead would be an aspect of the GodSelf. Truly, nothing exists which is NOT the GodSelf. Antonio would never hurt me, I am Antonio.
My eyes helplessly closed just as his fingers neared my temple.
Departing once again into Antonio's world caused me to realise how I had come to love the moment his fingers touch my forehead. The very instant contact occurs; a new version of reality bathes my consciousness in a tub full of warm singularity goo. Whether investigating historical events, assuming the spirit of another being, peeking into timelessness, or touching the essence of my own totality, there was always an element of oneness. Surprisingly, this occasion proved no different.
I found myself in a hospital room; the equipment seemed dated, possibly as far back as the mid 80's. On the bed was a young woman, on second glance, she looked a lot like me. Whoa, hold on, the woman on the bed was my mother! My mind began spinning, I remember thinking, this can't be true. Faint, but discernible, my dad's voice echoed in the background. His voice had a distinctively younger tenor than I could ever remember, oh my God, I realised I was witnessing my own birth from a third person perspective.
No sooner had the realisation hit me, I found my focus had turned directly to my infant self. Without warning, I discovered myself enveloped in the conscious mind of my prenatal self approaching the moment of birth. Touching my prenatal mind proved to be eerily similar to the experience I had when Antonio first showed me I was God. You may suspect the womb to be dark place, yet I experienced, for lack of a better description, an impression of light. Similar to the experience you get when you close your eyes and look up to the sun, there is colour there, right? If asked to describe the experience, I would say the womb is a warm loving and remarkably bright existence.
What a mind trip! Holy cow; Antonio never ceases to amaze, but this trip is a real lulu!
Shortly after assuming the consciousness of my pre - birth self, I found my perspective of "self" reeling back in time. Like a movie projector stuck on rewind, my sense of consciousness was cast backward one frame at a time closing in on my personal big bang. The most compelling aspect of this incredible journey was the realisation that my destination, moreover, my entire identity, was the GodSelf singularity. To be perfectly succinct; the process of developing the physical body initiates the death of the metaphysical body. In time, the pantomime will reverse as the physical, once again, yields to the metaphysical.
The conscious, prenatal, body on it's journey into physical "being" passes many bright neon road signs informing the pre natal infant physicality and separation lies ahead. The first sign, indicating the trip to the material has commenced in earnest, is the loving energetic bond the three life forces have with each other. Soon after inception; a strong physical connection between mother and child is forged. The prenatal child learns to relate to a "second" being, thereby developing within the psyche concepts of physicality and separation. This realisation of a separate "self" is the first real shock wave landed upon to the GodSelf being. Part and parcel with this realisation, is a diminishing sense of oneness as ultimate truth. Mere cracks in the GodSelf dam, yet worth noting. Each minute closer to birth represents a minute farther removed from the divinity of self.
Late first and early second trimester the prenatal me began to sense sounds from the "Outer World". This is the stage where "self" defined as two separate beings evolves into an acceptance that "self" be represented by an ever expanding stream of "others". Speeding away from heaven, divinity shrinking in the mirror, the third trimester was much like much like riding on the edge of an avalanche. Development of the physical and neurological network supporting the illusion of reality came at me like a video game designer hooked on Ritalin. Sensations of all kinds pummelled and moulded my psyche into a state of total submission.
Yes there is a world! Yes it is physical! Yes, I am that, I am!
Moments before my birth; I felt as if I were walking a razor's edge between my GodSelf identity and the illusionary identity I was about to assume. I related to my "self" as a singularity, the totality of all this "apparent" separation, yet this connection with Oneness was being bombarded, severed, eternally replaced by a veil of illusion.
To be clear with you dear reader, I feel I should expand a little on what it means when I say "I knew myself as a singularity". When I use a word like "know" I must anticipate you will attach reason; by example, I would use reason to illustrate to you that I am a woman and not a man. There are however, two very different types of "knowledge"; experiential and innate. Experiential knowledge is derived from the collective rewards of experience and reason, whilst innate knowledge is a deep seated knowing which defines itself in the absence of physical reality. Another attribute of innate knowledge is that it represents a state of "being", whereas, experiential knowledge is derives from a state of "doing". It is important you comprehend my prenatal self existed in a state of "being", accordingly, my sense of knowledge at time of birth was almost entirely innate in nature.
Little do I understand of such complex metaphysical amusements, however, I would venture to say that one can only truly "know" one "self" by entering into a state of "being" for it is the very nature of the illusion of physicality/separation which tricks us into believing my "self" is somehow separate from your "self".
Having accepted this pseudo reality as a playground, you jump head first into the woods, wolves barking at your heels. Fare paid in full; the ride commences with you becoming a unique spark of divine consciousness. How do you think we should usher in such splendour? One would assume a description of birthing events would include adjectives like; reverence, love, caring, honour. Failing a spectacular beginning to the ride; we anticipate all participants would, at the very least, avoid subjecting the newborn child and mother to brutality, horror and mayhem.
Describing my trek into our precious five sense material world, I would have to say the experience involved a brutish giant unceremoniously dragging me into a nightmare. There is no point mincing words; the physical trip from blissful GodSelf peace of mother's womb to a cold operating room table, is a hard ride!
However insensitive, antiseptic and brutal the introduction to the illusion of separation was on the physical plane, there was also a metaphysical release of the spirit body which was equally taxing. Things got real squirrelly when mother's water broke, but the real transition from a state of perfect singularity to the illusion of physical separation began in earnest when the doctors hands and instruments first touched my body. From that point forward, everything went to hell in a hand basket. The smack on my ass, merely served to punctuate the hienous trip with bitter tasting irony.
There is no honey to be found here child, a nasty world awaits!
We will slice this little cord, tear you from mother then unceremoniously begin our examination. My peaceful world had somehow, without warning, become apocalyptic. Seemingly, an eternity passed before the familiar beat of mother's heart gave brief, but very welcome, pause to the onslaught of clinical insanity. This was my beginning, what about yours, your grandchildren those expectant mothers? Do you think we, the collective intelligence of twenty first century science and medical technology, could somehow manage a few improvements.
As the experience unfolded, the smack in the ass proved multi purpose. Apropos was its greeting to this crazy ride, as well, it also served to knock me out of my prenatal consciousness. Moreover, the smack in the butt caused me to escape the first person experience, whereby, I presently found myself an observer to the event. Realising I was now floating as a bodiless observer directly above my infant self, I established a fresh accounting of my surroundings. Looking around the room, I noted my mother, father, for that matter, all living beings, were similarly constructed of light. Each vestige of life appeared to cast a separate and distinctive outline of light. Similarities of appearance were noticeable; by example, light seemed to bulge out around the heart. Tentacle like appendages of light sprung forth from the torso, head, and limbs. Further observance indicated inanimate objects in the room, even the room itself, shimmered and glowed. Hard edges normally found on physical objects had disappeared. Everything seemed to gel into everything else; I found it near impossible to define one object as being separate or distinct from another.
Surely you are having a hard time imagining my description!
There I was, lying on a cotton terry cloth bath towel, little feet and hands reaching out to nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. Wow did I shine! the brightness was so intense I had to avert my eyes. The glory of the moment was captivating, magnificent, blissful beyond description. Looking around the room, my mother and father were both radiant, excitement and joy permeated throughout adding animation to the celebration. Never have I seen my mother so beautiful, nor my father so proud.
Looking down on this most joyous scene left me breathless. Suddenly, amidst this merriest of events, a pique of intuition bespoke disaster. Moments after processing this most disturbing sense of intuit, a distinctive cool breeze traced across my back, making camp at the nape of my neck. Like an elastic band viscously recoiling to it's point of origin, my mind zeroed in on the stated purpose of this journey.
Antonio had promised to illuminate darkness!
Dazzled and transfixed by the splendour of my pre natal trek, I had completely forgotten the objective of this exercise. Fear raced at me like a freight train running wild down an alpine pass. My mind fretted to puzzle out a logical conclusion to this ominous revelation. Befuddled by the exercise of ferreting reason from insanity, I nearly missed the villain's grand entrance. Luckily, it had teased enough attention from the corner of my eye to enable me warning that the GodSelf, my GodSelf, was about to be horrifically violated.
Neon signs, banners and buglers were not needed to assure me the Master of Darkness had arrived. The beast approached, slowly edging toward the examination table upon which my infant self squirmed and cooed. Seeing the drama unfold below, I was taken aback to note the Master of Darkness, at least in it's dealings with me, chose to inauspiciously appear as a shadow. Relief was felt by the absence of great beasts, slithering creatures or countless other fears I had previously envisioned would materialize at this auspicious moment. Aside from the phenomenal dark energy this beast commanded; its appearance proved no more odious, nor troublesome, than the shadow cast by a big old Oak late on a sunny afternoon.
Benign as the evil appeared, my apprehension escalated significantly as I observed the shadow slowly close the distance to the glowing baby below. Relegated to the role of observer, I helplessly stared with bated breath as slowly this beastly shadow engulfed the tiny body, my tiny body. Without fanfare, in fact, apparently unnoticed by anyone but myself, the shadow consumed the glowing infant. To say my infant body was consumed may represent a confusing image to many readers, yet, I can settle upon no better qualified adjective with which to hang this portrait. Content, you can be to know, in my heart of hearts, I was assured this shadow's ominous presence had forever changed how I would define my "self" as separate from the reality I inhabit. Quietly, without resistance or concern, the Master of Darkness had consumed my GodSelf identity. Illusion instantly replaced truth; where my world was singular, division now ruled. Metaphysical consciousness, having bathed me in tub of GodSelf love for nine months, now relinquished it's hold on my consciousness. Yielding to the Master of Darkness, my sense of consciousness would forevermore reflect a tapestry of physicality. This, most natural transition, enabled the birth of my EgoSelf, as well, the awakening of fear.
The moment of realisation still stings my memory evoking tears of sorrow as penning these words force me to recollect my infant GodSelf spirit being consumed. For lack of a better description; I would have to say the event catapulted me into a state of shock. I can recall observing my helpless infant self, wishing beyond all reason, that the cloud of darkness would somehow disappear to reveal anew the awesome, glorious, glow of my GodSelf body. Surely, I thought, the GodSelf consciousness must shake itself free from the clutch of Darkness. Alas, I knew the shadow would never leave. Moreover; I now know the shadow, covering my infant self, was the platform upon which the Master of Darkness peddles his great showcase of illusion.
Antonio is a genius; this epic journey was exactly what I had needed. His aim was to disclose the root of evil. Tasked with such a challenge, where else should Antonio begin other than the origin of evil, nay, it's very birth. Never, in a million years, had I thought to perceive evil in the light of something which could be born, yet, plain as the nose on my face, I had just witnessed the birth of evil. Antonio, in allowing me to experience the scope of my own prenatal consciousness, illustrated what my reality looked like in the absence of illusion. The purity and singularity of "self" as a prenatal blob, the path toward separation, culminating with the birth of my EgoSelf the very moment my GodSelf identity was consumed. Wow, what a bizarre, mind twisting, plunge into the rabbit hole!
The message I took from this freaky ride left me utterly convinced the root of all evil is not represented by a great beast. Contrary to the extravagance of my collective fears; there appears to be no hideous villains, smelly aliens, snakes, nor reptilian perpetrators of chaos. The seed of Evil, it would appear, sprouts forth and bears fruit from fertile loams of illusion. Our lexicons define the word illusion as representing that which does not have a legitimate home within societies concept of reality. Bombastic, proud and careless, we paint the borders of our reality with the assurance of a steady hand. Thinking our philosophy beyond reproach, we fail to heed the near invisible, complex web of illusion constructed by Evil. The Master of Darkness has hidden within the collective psyche of humanity. Effectively, The Master of Darkness is the EgoSelf, a trickster who convinces us it does not exist. This beast I like to call the monkey mind which preys upon your attempt at a peaceful existence. You know the critter well, it talks to you every hour of every day it spreads fear, uncertainty, disease.
Can you imagine a more covert hiding place than within the mind of your adversary?